Innocent Until Proven Guilty
by adamwhatareyouevendoing
Summary: Modern Baxley AU where the pair are detectives investigating Mr Bates's innocence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Written by Katrina. This is my first Baxley fic so hopefully it's alright!**

_This is useless_, Molesley thinks as he trudges out of yet another pub. Their latest suspect claims that he was out drinking throughout the evening and night of the murder, so he definitely couldn't have done it. Molesley's inclined to believe him: Mr Bates doesn't seem the sort of person to be responsible for such a heinous act, but unfortunately, in order to prove the man's claim correct, Molesley has to traipse into every pub, bar, or other drinking establishment in York.

Not only that, but his DCI had deemed that this work was 'not vital' to the case, seemingly content to allow a potentially innocent man to be convicted, and leaving Molesley with a rather heroic amount of paperwork to fill his work days with. Therefore, Molesley has decided to follow up this lead on his weekends and days off. He can only hope that Mr Bates will appreciate this effort to clear his name.

He's so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn't notice the person right in front of him on the pavement as he steps out of the door and into the bitterly cold wind, bumping straight into the huddled figure. Molesley looks up, a litany of apologies ready to spring from his tongue.

"Sergeant Baxter!" he exclaims in surprise. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." He wrings his hands nervously.

Baxter gives him a gentle smile. "That's quite alright DC Molesley," she says, putting a slight emphasis on the title, in gentle reprimand for his use of hers. After all, it is a weekend.

"What are you doing here?" Molesley asks, confused. In a flash he realises that he probably sounded impolite, but before he can stutter much of an apology, Baxter cuts him off, waving his apology away with yet another gentle smile. She smiles a lot more around Molesley than anyone else in their team, he's noticed - not that he spends all his time watching her, obviously, but she definitely draws his gaze more often than he feels comfortable admitting, even to himself.

She looks down shyly before answering his question, a habit that Molesley has learned to read as her steeling herself up to say something she isn't entirely comfortable with admitting, or if she's said something she perhaps didn't mean to reveal. As always, he doesn't push her, allowing her to speak when she's ready.

"I think you're right," she admits eventually. "About Mr Bates being innocent." Baxter is the only person Molesley has confessed his suspicions to, as far as she knows, and at first she had been reluctant to agree. But the more the team has uncovered about Bates's past, and the troubles he and his wife have endured, Baxter has to admit that perhaps Molesley has a point: he's a man who has fought bitterly for everything he has, and would be loathe to lose it all now.

She realises that this probably doesn't fully explain how she came to be standing in the freezing cold on a Saturday afternoon, outside the exact same pub that Molesley had been leaving. One glance at his face tells her he is wondering as much.

"I'd like to be helpful," she offers, shyly at first. "Do mind if I tag along with you? It's a long job, I could keep you company."

Molesley is shocked, and it shows on his face for a moment before a wide smile breaks out. His hands fiddle nervously with the buttons on his coat as he replies, though he never breaks eye contact. "Thank you, that would help a lot," he admits, not managing to hide the flattered note in his voice.

Baxter smiles openly, and Molesley is yet again struck by her beauty - it so happens that this particular realisation occurs every day, but is always as overcoming as if it were the first. She rarely smiles like this though, and Molesley wonders if he's imagining the look of adoration in her eyes as she holds his gaze.

After a moment, she reluctantly breaks eye contact and tilts her head slightly, indicating that she wishes to look at the list in his hand. He passes her the sheet of paper, and gives her a quick run-down. "So far, I've covered 13 places, out of a possible 71. Who knew York had so many drinking establishments?"

Baxter's eyes dance with mirth. "Never been one for the night-life then Molesley?" she asks teasingly.

"Never had much luck in that area, I'm afraid," he smiles, his words laced with meaning as hers were. A light blush covers Baxter's cheeks as she checks the next place on his list. Molesley is entranced.

She smiles sweetly. "Well maybe it's about time you did."

Molesley just manages to hold back his splutter at her words, but it's his turn to go red. Baxter turns to set off towards their next destination, leaving Molesley to stand stunned for a few moments, before regaining his composure and catching up with her.

They walk in companionable silence down the street towards The Crown & Anchor. Molesley is secretly thrilled that he gets to spend the whole afternoon with her, and rather selfishly hopes that they don't find the pub Mr Bates had been drinking in; at least not today. He savours every moment that he gets to spend in her company, and the fact that Baxter deliberately sought him out today indicates that perhaps she may feel the same way about him.

At the pub's entrance he turns to her and smiles, gesturing towards the door. "After you Baxter."

Smiling graciously, she steps in front of Molesley, but turns back to face him before she enters, hand resting on the door. "Do please call me Phyllis when we're not at work," she says coyly. "Baxter seems awfully formal."

Molesley's heart leaps, and it takes him a moment to stutter out, "O-Only if you call me Joseph... Phyllis."

Baxter nods in acquiescence, pushing the door open and stepping into the pub in order to cover her blush at the way his voice sounded curling around the syllables of her name.

As they approach the bar, she glances back at Molesley and is pleased to see that he looks as overcome as she feels; maybe she's not as alone in this as she thought.

**Please review if you enjoyed! I'll try and update soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

Upon leaving The Crown & Anchor, Molesley turns to Baxter. "No luck there," he sighs, managing to sound a bit dejected, rather than relieved that he gets to spend a while longer in her company. "Shall we have a break after the next one - get a bit of lunch?" he ventures nervously, stuffing his cap on his head.

Baxter smiles at him. "That sounds like a wonderful idea Joseph."

His stomach flips, and Molesley thinks he'll never get used to the way his name sounds coming from her lips. It's an extraordinary thing that she manages to make his boring old name sound sweet and delicate; two things he always associates with her.

This is how they come to find themselves in Bullivant's tea rooms, seated by the window and away from the biting cold draught from the doorway. The shop has quietened somewhat in the mid-afternoon, out of the bustle of lunchtime hours, leaving a peaceful atmosphere.

The conversation between them is free and easy, a marked difference from their interactions in the office: always cautious and wary of prying colleagues. Both of them are naturally shy in social situations, and struggle to communicate easily; in each other they have found a kindred spirit.

Baxter chuckles at Molesley's expression when their tea arrives in floral teapots and sandwiches on delicate plates. He looks helplessly at her. "I must confess I feel rather out of my depth here," he admits, picking up the tea strainer with a quizzical look.

"It's to pour the tea with," Baxter explains, demonstrating for him with a playful expression on her face. "Yes, well," Molesley stutters, thinking she must find him awfully uncultured. "I manage perfectly well with teabags."

Baxter has to laugh at their unusual conversation, but at the slightly hurt look on Molesley's face she covers quickly. "Dear Joseph, I am only teasing." He blushes at her kind words but looks appeased.

It takes him until their plates have been cleared away and they're just starting on their final cups of tea to ask the question he'd been pondering ever since he'd bumped into her. Perceptive as ever, she meets his gaze just as he opens his mouth, having sensed that he was gearing up to say something.

Somehow Molesley manages to keep eye contact with her as he says, "Phyllis? Do you mind if I ask you something?" At her shake of her head, he continues, "I understand that you wanted to help me in my mission, but why didn't you just ask me at work? And how did you know where I was?"

Baxter looks down, contemplating her answer, wondering how much she's willing to admit. Eventually she meets Molesley's gaze, appreciating that he gave her time to compose herself.

"The first question is easy to answer," she murmurs. "I was worried about mentioning it in the office because I figured you wanted to keep your idea a secret until it worked." Molesley cannot help but smile at her confidence, both in him and his plan. "Also I didn't want anyone to overhear us in case they got any… ideas in their heads."

She glances down again, worried that she's gone too far and said too much. _What's the worst that can happen?_ she berates herself internally, trying to regain composure. Before she can find the words to elucidate, Molesley saves her by gently asking, "What about the second question?" _Dear, sweet Molesley_, she thinks, _always trying to make me feel at ease_.

"Now don't think I'm stalking you," she grins, catching his eye briefly. Molesley notes with relief that hers are twinkling playfully. "Yesterday I just happened to be walking past your desk when you were looking at your list of pubs."

_Yes, I remember_, Molesley thinks wryly. He's hardly likely to forget any moment that they are in close proximity, and in times like those he has a tendency to freeze until his heart rate gets back under control. Even the briefest moment can feel like it lasts hours. No wonder Baxter had time to check his list as she was walking by.

Baxter doesn't notice that he's lost in thought, and Molesley tunes back in just in time to hear her say, "- so I waited near The Red Lion until you showed up, I figured it couldn't be too long until you reached that part on your list... At least I hoped."

Molesley smiles at her, still overcome by the fact that she wanted to keep him company. "Thanks for clearing that up," he manages awkwardly. "And thank you for joining me. I know you didn't have to, but it means a lot that you wanted to."

They both know that he's not just referring to her wanting to prove Mr Bates's innocence. He doesn't press the issue though, and for that Baxter is grateful. Instead, he simply helps her into her coat, pays for their meal despite her insistence at footing some of the bill - "I'm the reason that you're here, at least in part... Please, allow me, Phyllis." - and joins her as they venture back into the frosty conditions.

"Where to now?" Baxter asks, as Molesley consults his list.

As they head towards their next destination, Baxter takes the plunge and slips her hand into the crook of Molesley's elbow. His stomach jolts, but he manages to give her hand a quick squeeze against his side in wordless appreciation of the gesture. Baxter cannot suppress the smile that sneaks onto her face as they contentedly head up the street together, pressed against each other's sides.

**Please review if you enjoyed! One more chapter to go I think!**


	3. Chapter 3

On Monday morning, two weekends and 38 pubs later, Baxter and Molesley wait together outside DCI Crawley's office. At 9:30 am sharp, Baxter knocks on his door and after a shout of approval from inside and a reassuring look from Molesley, they enter.

As previously agreed, Molesley takes the lead in explaining their activities - Baxter had told him that he should take the credit - bravely ploughing on despite the surprised expression on their senior officer's face.

"So eventually, after we'd only covered two-thirds of the places, we got something." Here, Molesley consults his notebook, determined to get all the details correct. "A Mr Salter, proprietor of The Pickerel on King's Street, remembered seeing Mr Bates on the evening in question. Apparently he stayed for over 2 hours, sometime between 6 and 8 pm, so during the window for the murder."

Crawley scrutinises him for a moment, and Molesley is certain that he's about to get a ticking off for not seeking official approval before carrying out this questioning. He can feel Baxter next to him, a reassuring presence, though he dares not look round at her. He shifts awkwardly at the prolonged assessing gaze, and is therefore surprised when Crawley speaks.

"And this Mr Salter is willing to give an official statement?"

Molesley manages to cover his shock at not being reprimanded. "Yes sir," he confirms.

A smile twitches at the corners of Baxter's mouth at his formality, though no else notices. It is a habit so quintessentially him, and one that no amount of teasing from their colleagues will prevent. Baxter admires his respectful nature, and if she is to admit it, it makes her adore him all the more.

Crawley shifts his gaze briefly to Baxter, before settling back on Molesley. "Well I believe thanks are in order: to both of you. Great work." They take in the praise for a brief moment, before responsibility forces its way back in again. "Unfortunately it means the real killer is still out there somewhere, so back to work." Crawley reverts back to his old gruff manner, which his subordinates actually find comforting in its familiarity. "Best let the rest of the team know of the developments."

With that, he strides out of the office, leaving Molesley and Baxter alone in the quiet room.

"Well, at least justice will be served now," Molesley says tentatively. Truth be told, he's not quite sure what happens between them now: they've been closer and spent more time together in these last two weeks than the rest of the year put together. He's loathe to go back to how they used to be, but also scared to take that step into unknown territory.

Baxter turns to him and smiles. "Yes, thanks to you," she says softly, reaching forwards without thinking. As her fingers squeeze his forearm gently, their gazes meet. Baxter isn't certain what she sees in Molesley's eyes - something beyond surprise, something warm and fond that she can't quite dwell on. If only she knew she had the same look in hers.

Molesley murmurs a delayed response. "And you."

In the charged silence that ensues, they can hear Crawley in the main office, updating the team. They begin listening just as their DCI mentions that they carried out this investigation together, out-of-hours.

They both visibly startle, eyes immediately darting to each other. Eventually Baxter gives a wry smile. "...Well, now they know."

Molesley hums in agreement. "No doubt they'll have ideas in their heads now," he says, echoing Baxter's words from their first afternoon together back to her. She's now in no doubt that he understood exactly what she meant.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the day they endure side-glances and murmured comments from their colleagues. Molesley knows that they're not being nasty; they just enjoy gossiping. Normally it doesn't bother him, but when it's gossip and speculation about him and Baxter, he finds himself minding. It's none of the team's business, whatever's going on between them, which as of yet is nothing.<p>

He tries to catch Baxter's eye a few times, but every time he looks over she's resolutely staring at her computer screen: to block out the rest of the team, or just him, he's not sure.

Even lunchtime barely grants them a reprieve: just as people are filtering out to grab a sandwich from the cafe down the street, two of their colleagues return with Mr Salter's official statement, having already got lunch on their way back to the office.

Although the comments die down for a bit, Baxter notices in her periphery people looking at her from time to time, perhaps wondering why there's suddenly an atmosphere between her and Molesley: they haven't exchanged a word since they left Crawley's office. Beyond two weeks ago that wouldn't have been very unusual, but recently they haven't gone more than half an hour without speaking to each other.

At the end of the day Baxter leaves a few minutes early, muttering some reason or other under her breath as she leaves. No one else seems to notice her distracted air, but Molesley cannot fail to. He figures that, like him, she was unable to bear the atmosphere any longer.

* * *

><p>Baxter has just poured herself a glass of wine and settled on her sofa to relax when there's a knock at the door.<p>

"Who the...?" She grumbles as she gets up and tiredly makes her way to the door.

Pulling it open, she stands frozen in shock for a moment at the unexpected visitor.

"Now don't think I'm stalking you..." Molesley begins, wringing his hands nervously. He's pleased to see her smile a bit at his opening gambit. Naturally he knows where she lives, after she allowed him to walk her home every evening after their investigations, but he'd been hoping it would help to fracture the atmosphere that had seemed to develop between them today.

At her silence, Molesley realises that she's still waiting for him to explain his presence on her doorstep. "I... I just thought I'd pop over and see how you were," he stutters. "You left work a bit early and you... You looked... Distracted." Silently he chastises himself for not being able to string a sentence together. Baxter looks like she's fighting some sort of internal battle. "I know it's probably a bit late, considering work finished over two hours ago, but I've just been walking the streets trying to work out whether I should call round and what I should say, and I lost track of time." He's aware he's babbling now, but it seems the safest way to just say what he needs to say.

It works though, because Baxter finally looks as though she's paying attention to him rather than her own thoughts. His words stir her into action, as she realises that the streets he has been walking are covered in fresh snow, and it is indeed freezing.

Reaching forward she takes his arm and tugs him inside, shutting the door behind them. The movement has brought them closer together, and when Baxter glances upwards she sees a startled look in Molesley's eyes, along with that unnameable warmth.

Stepping back a fraction she hastens to explain her actions. "I'm sorry, I just realised how cold it was outside and keeping the door open was letting a draught in."

"That's quite alright Phyllis."

The use of her name, spoken low and soft, makes her realise with a jolt that yet again they are in unknown territory: outside of work, but this time without an investigation to focus on and give them direction.

Helplessly, she looks to Molesley for direction, hoping for some way out of this deadlock they find themselves in. _Unusual that you're seeking support from him_, she thinks, but then amends it. In actual fact, though Molesley is the more nervy of them both, he has supported her many times over the last two years, befriending her when no else would. Her help in his mission to prove Mr Bates's innocence had been about trying to repay him for all his kindness, by supporting him when he needed it. That, and spending more time in his company.

Unsurprisingly then, Molesley does help by repeating his earlier statement, when she had been too distracted to understand the full weight of his words.

"I came by to see you because you left early from work and seemed distracted," he says, more eloquently than last time, hoping that if he sounds confident in his convictions, she might open up. It works.

"You were right," she sighs. "I just couldn't handle any more glances or veiled comments. I know they were just gossiping, and to be fair I can understand why... I can see exactly how it looks to them. I know it's silly of me to be upset by it," she confesses. "But I just wanted to tell them all to be quiet and stop speculating about things they don't know to be true."

It's the most she's spoken all day, and although she realises that there's no going back from this, she's glad she said it. It's out now - all her feelings on the line. She looks down at her feet, waiting for Molesley to speak.

Taking a chance, he prompts her to look at him by softly saying, "Phyllis" and waiting until she makes eye contact. "Please do correct me if I'm reading this wrong - I'm so sorry if I am, but..." The warmth in her eyes encourages him to continue. "Would you like to make those rumours true?"

The implication of his words hang between them. Molesley looks terrified, but her expression continues to soften.

"Are you serious?" she manages to murmur, her voice sounding wondrous even to her own ears.

"Yes, absolutely. If you are," he adds nervously.

The first true smile he's seen from her all day breaks onto her face.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," she almost cries. "Oh Joseph..."

He returns her smile. "Let me guess, you thought I'd never ask?"

"Well yes," she admits with a breathy laugh. "But not in the way you're thinking: not because I didn't think you'd have the confidence to, but because I thought you might not feel the same way."

"Well I do," he says, with such an adorably earnest look on his face that Baxter cannot help but smile again. _This is what it feels like_, she thinks. _To finally get what you've been hoping for_.

"Good," she replies, for a moment lost as to where they go from here.

Yet again she's saved by Molesley. "May I... Erm, may I kiss you now?" he asks nervously. His eyes shift to her lips and then back up again when he realises.

"Of course you may," she smiles, looking coyly at him. "I was just trying to work out how to initiate it myself," she admits.

Molesley only has time to be briefly surprised and pleased before Baxter is moving closer towards him again. When they are close enough for their chests to almost be touching, Baxter notices for the first time that her eye level is exactly at his lips. She sees them quirk into a small smile as he realises as well, and she cannot prevent hers from doing the same.

She tilts her head upwards just as he dips his down, and their lips meet for the first time in a sweet, chaste kiss. When they pull back just far enough to meet each other's gaze, there are unshed tears in Molesley's eyes, and Baxter raises a hand to stroke his cheek softly. There's no need for words to explain - she understands.

Pressing her advantage, she slips her hand round to the back of his head, tugging him down for another kiss. He readily complies, eyes slipping shut when she deepens the kiss.

They eventually part, breathing heavily into the space between their mouths. Baxter decides to take a leap of faith and pulls away as far as she can with Molesley's arms wrapped around her waist.

"Fancy coming in for a bit Joseph?" she murmurs, awkwardly attempting to gesture to the sitting room. "I can promise wine and kisses before I have to kick you out," she teases.

Molesley grins. "Sounds perfect Phyllis. And tomorrow, I can promise you a proper date."

With that pleasant thought lingering in their minds, they make their way into the adjoining room to spend an enjoyable and companionable evening together, finally reassured in the knowledge that they both want the same thing - each other.

**The End.**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
